Page 296 of Wicked Highland Heroes

“‘Tis a scratch,” he said.

Diana appeared at the bed, a basin of water in hand and clean clothes slung over her shoulder. “Go on now,” she ordered.

“Have you birthed a child?” he asked.

“Aye,” she said. “Twice before.”

“Have you a midwife?” he asked. “We can fetch her.”

“She would only arrive to see your wife suckling the babe at her breast.”

“Are you sure—”

“Laird,” she cut in, “unless ye plan to bring this baby into the world, let me be. Now, shoo.”

Rhoslyn tensed again and gave a deep grunt.

“I will stay,” he said.

The woman’s mouth fell open in shock. “A man doesna’ stay in the birthing room.”

“Midwives always have help,” he said. “You may have need of me.”

She glanced at Rhoslyn, indecision in her eyes, when Rhoslyn began panting heavily. Diana’s attention came back onto him. “As ye say. I may have need of you. But you will do as I say, and willna’ move from her side unless I tell you otherwise—no matter what. Do oue understand?”

“Aye.”

Talbot soothed Rhoslyn, fetched more water and clean cloths as Diana ordered. When Sir Derek came to report that a company of men had arrived, led by Ross, Talbot had to admit relief. He had expected his child to be born surrounded by the protective walls and fighting might of Castle Glenbarr. Here, only the flammable walls of the cottage separated them from the dangers of the world. He ordered Sir Derek to secure the bodies and have the men surround the cottage to keep watch until they left for Castle Glenbarr.

The day wore on toward evening as Rhoslyn labored. When the sun set, Talbot heard the door creak open beyond the closed curtain.

“Diana,” the man called. “Kinsley, what are ye doing here?”

Seward quietly explained to Morrison what had happened.

Morning came and Talbot feared Diana would collapse from exhaustion. He and her husband had forced her to lie down, but she had slept little more than an hour before she returned to Rhoslyn’s side.

“Are you sure we do not need the midwife?” Talbot asked.

“Why would we need a midwife?” Rhoslyn demanded.

He looked at her. “Rest, my lady.” The labor pains were coming too quickly and he could see the fatigue in the droop of her eyelids. He wanted to ask Diana what was wrong, why the baby was taking so long to come, but feared worrying Rhoslyn.

“Mayhap ye should get some rest, laird,” Diana told him.

He shook his head. “I will stay.”

“Ye look tired,” she insisted.

“Not as tired as my wife. Should not the babe have come by now?”

“Ah, so that is it,” she said. “Ye fear something is wrong because the baby hasna’ rushed into the world to meet you.”

Frustration wore jagged on his nerves. “You need not worry, my lady wife.”

“Lady wife, is it?” Rhoslyn croaked a laugh.

Diana wrung out a cloth with cool water and mopped her brow.